Sydney Mackenzie Knocks 'Em Dead Page 6

  Scene:

  My new friends and I are playing Monopoly on the kitchen table when there’s a clattering and a howl from outside.

  “What’s that?” Johanna asks.

  “Oh, what? That noise?” I ask, like it’s no biggie. “That’s just the ghost of Gavin Poole.” I point to the clock. “He always howls around seven.” I go to the window and yell out, “Keep it down, Gavin! We’re playing a game, and I own Boardwalk and Park Place!”

  They look at me.

  “Wow. That was cool,” Mel says.

  “You’re so brave,”  Travis says.

  Nick doesn’t say anything at first. He just stares at me. I realize how deep dark blue his eyes are. When the other three huddle around the window hoping for a glimpse of Gavin, Nick says, “Maybe you want to go to Pizza Palace tomorrow after school. Just us?”

  My mental movie clip was interrupted with thud!

  There it was again.

  [A few bars of spooky music.]

  Big branches brushed against my window and I heard snap—crack—snap. It sounded like someone, or something, walking on the frozen cemetery ground outside. Or was the sound coming from outside my door? It was hard to tell with the wind.

  Bravely I crept to the window and opened the slits of the mini blinds just enough to see a sliver of the moon. It wasn’t giving off much light through the clouds. I squinted and saw a birdhouse sway. It creaked on its hook and thumped against the tree trunk, too softly to be the thud.

  Then thud!

  I dashed down the hall into the Dumb-Os’ room. I slipped under the covers of the bottom bunk with One . . . or maybe it was Two. I couldn’t tell when they were asleep. Come to think of it, I could hardly tell when they were awake. I was really mad at them, but now I snuggled this twin like he was a security blanket.

  I lay there and wondered how awesome my friends would think it was if Lay to Rest was haunted.

  * chapter fourteen *

  THINGS THAT THUD

  I STOPPED IN THE KITCHEN on my way out to school. There were dirty bowls and spoons and eggshells and flour and cinnamon sprinkled all over the place.

  One and Two took turns holding the maple syrup bottle upside down, squeezing and drinking from it.

  Roz stood at the stove.

  “What happened in here?” My first thought was that zombies had left their graves during the night, decided they were hungry, and rummaged through our cabinets. Even the undead have to eat, right?

  “I’m making breakfast,” Roz said.

  “How’s that working out?” I asked.

  One cracked an egg on his head.

  Roz said, “No wonder you have a bruise on your head, if you’re bopping yourself with things like that.” Roz wiped her brow with the back of her wrist, leaving a smear of white flour. “I’m not going to lie to you, Syd. The French toast isn’t going well.”

  The percolator angrily spit crud into the clear lid. She saw me checking it out. “The coffee didn’t go well either.”

  “How about some orange juice?” I asked.

  She smiled. “I can do that.” She handed me the carton and a glass.

  Roz looked at the plate of yucky French toast. I didn’t think she wanted to give it to the twins.

  “You know,” I said. “They’ll eat anything with syrup on it.”

  * chapter fifteen *

  THE KING OF SECRETS

  I SAT WITH MEL AND Johanna at lunch.

  Johanna was saying, “But it was my ninth slice. So it was free.”

  “That’s great, but now you have to start all over,” Mel said.

  “That’s okay. After eight slices, I’ll get another.” Then Johanna said to me, “We stopped at the Palace after leaving your house last night, and I got a free slice. I swear, it tasted better than a regular slice.”

  “Really?” I asked, but all I thought was why hadn’t they invited me? My stomach instantly tied into a knot, and I couldn’t drink my carton of school milk. Maybe they didn’t like me as much as I thought.

  “Maybe we’ll do it this weekend,” Johanna said about something, but I didn’t know what.

  “Sure,” Mel said.

  Were they doing something without me this weekend?

  I leaned in closer to the girls. “I have a little problem,” I said. “Can you keep a secr—”

  Nick and Travis came out of nowhere and sat across from us. “A secret?” Travis asked. “I love secrets. What’s the secret?”

  Johanna said to Travis, “It only stays a secret if you keep it a secret. And everyone knows you can’t.”

  Travis tapped his chest. “Me? I am like the king of secrets. I can keep a secret like nobody’s business. Isn’t that right, Nick? Can’t I keep a secret like nobody’s business? Remember how I never told anyone about that time in first grade when you peed in your pants in art class because Mr. Schuldner wouldn’t give you a bathroom pass?” He shoved an entire Devil Dog in his mouth.

  “Sure,” Nick said. “You’re the king of secrets. And the duke of Devil Dogs.”

  Travis smiled with black cake in between his teeth.

  I looked at Nick and remembered how he asked me out for pizza in my movie preview.

  “What?” he asked when he caught me staring. “Booger?”

  I shook my head. “Nothing.”

  I guess he didn’t believe me that it was nothing, because he wiped his nose anyway.

  Mel said, “Don’t worry about him. If he tells anyone, I’ll get Gary and Quincy to paste his underpants over his head.”

  Johanna whispered to me, “They’re her cousins. They lay cement. With that stuff, it would take a while to loosen underwear.”

  Travis swallowed. “Like I said, I can keep a secret.”

  Nick leaned in on both elbows, listening. “Me too,” he said. I snuck another stare at him.

  Mel asked, “So, what’s this BIIIIG secret?”

  “I was going to tell you yesterday, but I wanted to be sure first. Well, I’m still not sure sure, but I’m kinda sure. I’m more sure than yesterday, because it happened again.”

  “What happened?” Nick asked.

  I darted my eyes back and forth, because that’s what people in the movies do before they make a big statement like this. They were all listening. “I think Lay to Rest is haunted.”

  Their eyes popped. Like I’d hoped, they were totally into it. They looked like Leigh when she walked into Saks when it was decorated for Christmas.

  I was totally on my way to Gigi-ism.

  “You think?” Mel asked.

  “Well, yeah. Maybe a little,” I said.

  “Can you have just a little haunting?” Johanna asked. “Are there different sizes, like with a fountain soda: small, medium, large, and super-extra jumbo?”

  “Um, I don’t know. This is all kind of new to me.”

  Travis asked, “I wonder if there’s a test. Like if you think you have mice, you know because you see stuff chewed up. If you have deer eating your corn, you can see their hoofprints. How would you know for sure? It’s not like we can leave a note that says, ‘Check yes if you’re haunting Lay to Rest.’ And what if they’re haunting you, but they decide to be funny and check no.”

  Nick asked, “You wanna leave a note for a ghost and ask him to check a box?” His tone said, Are you serious, moron?

  Travis said, “I was just thinking. You know, like how could we find out? Mac said she isn’t sure. She didn’t, like, interview the ghosts, or did you? Did you actually talk to any spirits?”

  “Umm. No. I . . . um . . . no, I didn’t.”

  “See,” Travis said. “She didn’t talk to any ghosts. If she had, then we would have our answers. I was just trying to come up with some other ideas. But I can tell by the look on all of your faces that you don’t appreciate my ideas.” He popped an Oreo into his mouth.

  I explained the thuds.

  Mel said, “A thud could be a lot of things.”

  “How can we find out for sure?”
>
  Johanna said, “A spiritual-aphony.”

  We looked at her strangely.

  “We have a séance at the cemetery and see if there is a spirit hanging around,” she explained like we were dunces.

  I didn’t love that idea. “Ummm,” I said.

  Mel even said, “It’s a great idea.”

  “What I mean is, should we disturb the spirit world? We could open some portal we can’t close, and Buttermilk River Cove would be overrun with ghosts or zombies,” I said. “That’s what always happens in the movies.”

  Well, that clearly was the wrong thing to say.

  “Zombies!” Travis said. “Seriously? That would be so awesome, dude. Think about it. We’d be on the news.”

  Mel asked Johanna, “Do you know how to do that? A séance?”

  “How hard can it be?” she asked. “I’ll look it up. By Friday I’ll be a pro.”

  Mel looked at me; maybe she sensed that I was nervous. “What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

  I didn’t answer, but the worst that could happen was we could find out it wasn’t haunted and my quest could be over forever, or we could find out it was haunted and then, well, I’d be haunted!

  They agreed: Friday, eight o’clock, behind the Dolan mausoleum.

  “How exciting! A séance. I can’t wait,” I lied.

  Johanna ran out of the caf ahead of us to get a book from the library. Travis followed her. Mel picked up her things when the bell rang. I tossed my trash. When I came back to the table, Nick was holding up my backpack by its handle.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  We walked in the same direction to fifth period.

  “So, a séance?” he said as we bumped through the crowd like pinballs.

  “Sounds like fun, right?” A short kid walked into my stomach, then changed his route.

  “Sure. If it works, it should tell you what you’re dealing with.”

  “If it works?” I asked.

  “Are you thinking Johanna can perform a real séance and communicate with the dead and ask them if they’re haunting you?” He stopped at his cubby, Buttermilk River Cove Middle School’s excuse for lockers, and swapped out some books. “I don’t think she can, and I don’t think she can learn by Friday. Do you?”

  “I don’t know.” I considered it. “She seemed pretty confident.”

  “Well it’s not like we have anything else to do around here.” He zippered his pack. “What are you doing this afternoon?” he asked, and I thought this was the moment when he’d ask me to the Pizza Palace.

  “I have some chores. Why?”

  “Just wondering,” he said.

  “Were you thinking of going to the Pizza Palace?” I asked.

  “Not really. I have to work today.”

  “Oh.” I flushed with embarrassment. Of course he wasn’t asking me to the Pizza Palace. “Where do you work?”

  “My uncle Joe’s hardware store. I make some deliveries for him after school.”

  “That sounds like fun,” I said.

  “Not really.” He stopped at a classroom. “This is my class.”

  “Okay. See ya around.” I turned and hiked my backpack higher up on one shoulder.

  “Hey,” he called.

  I looked back over my shoulder.

  “Maybe double P another day?”

  “Sure,” I said.

  On the bad side, I might be haunted, but on the good side, I was pretty sure Nick Wesley just asked me out for pizza.

  * chapter sixteen *

  LEADING MAN

  AS I WALKED TO THE front door, Jim yelled from the roof, “Hey, Sydney!”

  “What?”

  “Can you bring me the box of nails?”

  I saw a box on the ground and climbed up the metal ladder. “Here you go,” I said, and handed the box to Jim.

  “Thanks, honey,” he said. He wiped his nose on his gloved hand. He was sweating under his knit cap, and his cheeks were rosy. This was a whole new look for Jim Mackenzie, Sporting Goods Store Maven. “How are you? How was school?”

  “I’m good, Jim.”

  He looked up from the nail’s target with a look that said, Don’t call me Jim, grabbed a nail, held it in place, then gave it a whack with the hammer. “I left you a list of chores on the table.”

  “That was thoughtful of you.”

  He held up a talk-to-the-hand hand. “Just do it.” He whacked again, hitting the roof and missing the nail.

  “Are you going to be okay up here? Should I get Cork?”

  “I’m fine,” he said. “Rome wasn’t built in a day, you know?”

  “Okay. Just be careful. I think that guy had help and had built other stuff before Rome.”

  That got a smile.

  I stepped down the ladder, one rung at a time.

  Jim called after me. “This weekend we’ll start on the basement. You can help.” At that the outside house lights right next to me blinked on and off, and I lost my footing and slipped. My hand slid down the metal rail, and I was going down, butt first.

  “Ahhhh!” I yelled as I fell. Suddenly something broke my fall. My feet were still on the ladder, and someone had caught me at my armpits. My butt was suspended in midair over a puddle of mud. I righted myself and turned, expecting to see Elliott, but instead saw dark blue eyes.

  * chapter seventeen *

  CHORES

  “YOU OKAY?” NICK ASKED.

  “Yeah.” I straightened my jacket. “You saved my butt. Literally.” I indicated the mud and laughed. “Those lights blinked and distracted me.”

  “They aren’t blinking now.”

  “No. They aren’t.” Then I asked, “I thought you were working today?”

  “I am.” He held up a brown paper bag. “Special delivery. Hooks, drill bits, lightbulbs, and electrical tape for Jim Mackenzie.”

  “Do you have a hanger, a driller, and an electrician in there too?” I asked.

  He laughed. “I heard he was having some trouble.”

  “You did?”

  “It’s tough to keep anything quiet around this small town. I’m sure my uncle Joe could help him out, if he needs it. He’s real good at this stuff.”

  “I don’t think he’ll ask for help.” I hugged myself and rubbed my arms. It was cold around here all the time. “You want some cocoa?” I asked.

  “If it’s the same as yesterday, yes.”

  He followed me into the house. “I just got home from school, how did you get here so fast?” I asked.

  “I took Goog,” he said. We went into the kitchen.

  I got two mugs out of the cabinet. “Is that a horse or donkey?”

  “Neither. Just because this isn’t a big city doesn’t mean we all have farm animals.”

  I thought I’d offended him. “Oh, right.”

  “Goog is an old snowmobile that me and my dad rebuilt. There’s a path up the hill. I use her for deliveries sometimes.” I poured two mugs of the steamy brown cream. It looked and smelled awesome. I was beginning to like Joyce’s hot cocoa as much as frozen yogurt. “It beats walking up that hill,” he said.

  “I bet.” I handed him the mug and blew on mine.

  He sipped. “Ouch!”

  “That’s why they call it hot.”

  “I guess.”

  I asked, “Want some whipped cream?”

  “Sure,” Nick said.

  I looked in the fridge but didn’t see any. “That’s funny; I know we had some because Joyce, the woman who works here, put it on mine the other day.”

  He looked over my head. “It’s right there.”

  I still couldn’t find the can.

  He came up behind me and reached around into the fridge. He was so close to me that I could smell chocolate on his breath. He picked up a silver bowl with a spoon sticking out. “Right here.”

  We came out of the fridge. “I’ve only ever seen it in a can.”

  He put a dollop on his cocoa and then mine. He sipped. “This is how we country f
olk like it,” he said. He had a mustache of white foam. “Perfect.”

  I sipped. “Mmmm. It is perfect.” I looked at his eyes again, like a movie close-up. They were really pretty.

  “I know you didn’t make the whipped cream, but did you make the cocoa?”

  I laughed for only a second when I realized he was serious. “No. I don’t know how to cook.”

  “Really? Nothing?”

  “Nada.” I sipped. “But this is good enough to make me want to learn.”

  “So,” he said, “are you excited about your séance party Friday night?”

  “Heck yeah! Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I don’t know. I just got the feeling maybe you were afraid to find out if you had a ghost,” he said.

  “Oh, no. I’m totally psyched to wake the dead, aren’t you? Or are you afraid something freaky might happen . . . something like . . . I don’t know . . . zombies coming out of the ground and trying to find a living body to steal? Or . . . I don’t know . . . something like a vampire sucking all our blood? Is that the kind of thing you think might happen?”

  He looked at me like I was a zombie. “No. Actually, I hadn’t thought of any of that. You really do go to a lot of movies, don’t you?”

  “I guess I do. Actually, I really miss them.”

  “It’s a bummer we don’t have a movie theater close by,” he said.

  “What kind of movies do you like?”

  “All different kinds, I guess.”

  I was excited to hear that he liked movies too.

  He changed the subject. “What are these chores you have to do?”

  I said, “Jim said he left me a list.” I looked across the table. “There it is.”

  “Why do you call him Jim?”

  “Ummm,” I said. “I guess because that’s his name.”

  He nodded, but I could tell he didn’t get it. It was tough to explain—I’d started calling them Roz and Jim and sort of just never stopped.

  I got the paper. It said:

  LIST FOR SYDNEY

  1. SCOOP ASHES OUT OF THE FIREPLACE IN THE PARLOR.

  2. GATHER ALL THE DEAD FLOWERS FROM TOMBSTONES.

  3. TAKE THE BOXES IN THE UPSTAIRS HALLWAY INTO THE ATTIC.